


❊ Just Girly Things ❊

by Mythstaken



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythstaken/pseuds/Mythstaken
Summary: Buffy and Willow have a girl night's in. Manis, Swayze, and Buffy talking about the inevitable - her death. Totally, normal girly things.
Relationships: Willow Rosenberg & Buffy Summers
Kudos: 6





	❊ Just Girly Things ❊

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

“So, ‘Pretty in Pink’ or ‘Scarlett Sunrise’?” Buffy asked Willow, dangling two bottles of nail polish in front of her.

It was a Friday night and unlike every other teenager in the town who was probably living it up at the hormone infested Bronze, Willow and Buffy had decided to have a calm, low-key night in. Sans the sweaty, loud, overcrowded, grinding bodies that were hoping to make merry with possible beaus. Instead, they were substituting it for a much needed ‘Will and Buffy time.’ She would like to have thought this was a mature decision on their part.

Bathrobes on, hair piled up on top of our heads and a green tea mask doing its masking thing on our faces, with ‘Say Anything’ playing on the t.v because why not? Just because they were sans hormones didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in the eye candy that was John Cusack. Buffy definitely was indulging, and she wasn’t just talking about the pepperoni pizza, bread sticks, chips, popcorn (not holding the butter) and pop that was surrounding them. Eating their feelings? No. They were just growing girls, who happened to feel better with a lot of junk food. It didn’t help that Buffy had just finished up patrol about an hour ago.

Willow studied the nail polish bottles with a crease forming in her brow, seeming to change her mind every time she looked from one colour to the other.

“C’mon, Will. I don’t think I’ve seen you this stressed out even during exam season. Just pick a colour, be spontaneous.” Buffy goaded playfully, wriggling the tiny bottles. “Which one will it be? Something scandalous or something that says ‘Hi, I’m flirty?’”

“Pretty in Pink,” Willow nods, before giving a rapid shake of her head, “No, wait. The red one. Or... oh.... uh.”

Even with the minty green mask on her face, Buffy knew she was getting flustered because that was just a Willow thing to do. Exponentials and algebra? Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Picking a colour? She needed 3-5 business days notice before even considering it.

“Do you want to pick a different colour other than these two?” Buffy asked her friend, who seemed to grow a little relieved. She should have known that these two colours were too out there for her pal, Will. She liked something more delicate and subtle, not loud and bright. (Which was saying something considering her confetti cake sweaters.)

“Yeah,” Willow started, almost sheepishly, “Those colours are a bit too... TOO, y’know? Like, bam. Also, who names these things?”

An adoring smile on Buffy's face from Willow’s dissection of the nail polish industry, fumbling through her set of different colours before popping out a different colour, something a little more natural. It was opaque in colour, a subtle cream bordering on being peach. Nothing too flashy, but delicate. Totally Will.

Buffy's took Willow’s hand in her own, carefully applying the colour to her pointer finger, assessing her reaction as a Willow-y grin stretched on her face, “Definitely that one.”

“That’s my girl,” Buffy echoed, continuing to paint her nails.

“S’too bad Xander couldn’t hang out with us tonight,” Willow mused, “He must be having fun having dinner with folks.”

They both gave each other a knowing look. Xander was probably counting the minutes until he could slip out from hearing his Uncle Pete’s never-to-the-point stories. The ones who he would then tell them.

“I mean, would Xander really want to be with us while we’re doing this?” Buffy asked her best friend, the smile overtaking both their faces telling them the answer they both already knew, saying in unison, “YES!"

Throwing her head back in laughter, Buffy pushed a stray blonde lock from her face as it decided to fall from her bun, placing Willow’s hand on her lap to let it dry. Buffy's eyes went to the t.v screen, ears perking up when she hears the song “In your Eyes” coming from the t.v, watching as Lloyd stands outside Diane’s bedroom.

“Getting a little melty there, Buff?” Willow teased, nudging Buffy.

Buffy hadn’t realized she had gotten so encaptured by the movie that she had already seen a dozen times.

“Huh? Oh, no. I mean.... yeah, a little,” Buffy sheepishly admit, taking Willow’s other hand as she carefully start to apply the colour in small glides, sighing wistfully, “What girl doesn’t want that, you know? The butterflies, the can’t sleep, smile into your pillow kind of love? Instead, we’re stuck with jerks in real life.”

“Well... Oz isn’t a jerk,” Willow admits before nodding, “Though, others.... my mom said they mature later on in life. Maybe after college.”

Buffy rumpled my nose.

“Yeah, Oz is great,” Buffy nod in agreement. “Definitely not part of the Sunnydale Jerk Squad.”

“You’re Buffy. Buffy Summers. Any guy would be lucky to go out with you. You just got to find the right one.”

That caused the Slayer to laugh, and it wasn’t a funny ha-ha. There was a bitter edge to it, one that was more noticeable in her following words, “Yeah, or I could get them a one way ticket to Hell. So lucky.”

Buffy's recent love life had consisted of me sending not one, but two, beaus to Hell, a supposed boy king who wanted immortality, and adrenaline junkies who lived for the thrill of the near kill. Simple Joe regulars clearly were not regulars.

“Buff....” Willow spoke, her voice soft, “It wasn’t your fault. Dean—“

“Yeah. It was.” Buffy cut her off. She had to. She couldn’t talk about it, it was still too fresh. Too new. Too ‘oh shit, there was the sandpaper feeling in my throat again’, even though it had been two months since I had gotten the call from Bobby. Her hand went instinctively to the necklace that was slung under her robe - Dean's amulet.

Buffy finished Willow’s other hand, carefully placing down as to not smear anything (Buffy was very particular about manicures.) “Let it dry, before I put on a top coat.”

The blonde settled back against her bed, picking up a slice of pizza and taking a cheesy bite, chewing thoughtfully before speaking, “It’s okay, I’ve already made peace with it.”

“I know you can’t tell because this mask is getting tight, but I refuse.” Willow stated in clear disapproval, “You’re going to go find someone. You’re going to graduate and give Snyder heck! You”ll go to college. You’re going to fall in love. You’re going to have a big fat wedding because you’re you and you’ll be insufferable consulting every wedding magazine ever published and you’re going to have kids that will play with mine and—“

“I’ve made peace with the fact that I won’t live that long, Will.” Buffy's words were soft, the edges holding a melancholy to them that hid behind a small smile. She shrugged. “To do any of that stuff.”

Whatever speech Willow bad been preparing in her head seemed to jumble in her mouth, her mouth forming an “o” as she looked at the Slayer, a slight tremble in her lower lip as she shook her head profusely, “Buffy, no. You can’t talk like that. You’re one of the best darn Slayers ever. Of course, I haven’t seen the others but you’re already eons better than Miss.Five-by-Five and you’ve already died once. And come back! Also, Giles’ won’t let you and you know what? Neither will Xander and I, gosh darn it, so you can’t just go around saying that kind of stuff.”

Buffy could hear the slight panic in Willow's words.

The blonde looked at her sweet faced friend. Willow, the kind witch, the loyal one whose magic wasn’t just mystical. How could she explain to her something she had lived with since she had been called? Death had become so much more imminent and real to her after the first time she had taken her last breath. Buffy had read about the other Slayers, their Watcher’s writing down their time and cause of death into the book. Just another number, another girl to be bound to the pages and sealed away. One Slayer dies and another one was called; disposable. She had already waged war with Lady Luck too times too many.

It was a bittersweet realization. Sure, Buffy wanted to be the exception. She wanted to fight like hell to be the exception because it meant that no other girl would be bouldering this weight while she was, having her entire life turn upside down. It also meant that she would be alive, breathing, feeling. That she would get to do the everyday, normal, mundane human stuff that was a basic right of passage.

Buffy also wasn’t dense and knew each and every night that she stepped foot into the dark, that the slightest miscalculation, the wrong footing, a moment too slow could cost her life. Each time there was another beep of the ‘End is nigh’ hotline, she confronted the realization that her life wouldn’t be long. That this could the last battle.

Of course, this was never something she shared with her friends. They wouldn’t know, they wouldn’t understand. Sure, they were at her side but it always seemed like there was a thick slab of invisible glass that seemed to divide them, and Buffy was on the outside looking in. At the warfront, it was her. Alone.

Buffy shrugged at her friend, smile comforting as she saddled up against her, shoulder to shoulder. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true,” she whispered. “It’s something that I just want you to keep in mind.”

Buffy wasn’t saying it to hurt Willow, or dampen the mood. She was stating something she knew, and it had taken her awhile to get anywhere close to comfortable with it and she wasn’t even there yet. She wanted her friends to be prepared, because sometimes, they didn’t realize. They didn’t know. The glass was dividing them, too. She wanted them to be ready, to be strong.

“I might not get to the love of my life, or college, or getting to see the Grand Canyon, wearing a white dress or having kids part of my life... and that’s just the way it is.” Buffy tipped her head against Willow's shoulder, voice coming out quiet, “It’s destiny.”

A word Buffy had a very complicated relationship with. A single word that directed the way in which the strings to her life moved, the way it was determined before she had even a chance to grow from a girl, putting her front and centre in a centuries old war she had no part of.

“But that’s okay,” Buffy said, putting on her fabricated and cheery Buffy best, the lines of her mask cracking with effort she was putting in. She had to, otherwise this was getting too heavy and she would cripple under the weight this always seemed _this_ close to suffocating her each night when she thought about it a little more than she should.

There were nights when she thought about it, about what would happen when she was gone. To her friends. To her mom. She would be alone. Would everyone be much safer? Would it be worse?

“In the mean time, I’ll date really stupid boys who are going to break my heart, cry about history paper deadlines and hang out with you and Xander. Maybe take on another apocalypse or two,” Buffy stated, nodding her head as if she were just talking about a simple, everyday laundry list. “Totally normal girly stuff.”

Willow didn’t say anything. Maybe because there was nothing to say against a truth that they never wanted spoken into form.

Buffy grabbed the bowl of popcorn sitting next to her, in all its buttery goodness, and offered it to Willow, asking, “Time for a Swayze takeover before I put on the topcoat?” Buffy asked her, wriggling my brows.

The witch nodded, grabbing the popcorn bowl from her friend and placing it in her lap while Buffy switched the movie out for another before settling back in, disrupting the quiet air to note, “Swayze is dreamy, isn’t he?”

“Totally dreamy.” Willow echoed, from under a mouthful of popcorn, eliciting a grin on Buffy's part.

“Oh no, I ruined my pinky nail,” Willow complained, showing Buffy the smudged nail.

Buffy examined it, taking her finger in her hand, getting out the bottle of polish remover, the stench of the pungent acetone momentarily filing the small space, smearing it on her nail before cleaning it up and applying a smooth layer of ‘Sandstone’ to Willow’s nail, inspecting to see if it evenly matched the rest.

“What would I do without you, Buff?” Willow asked her best friend, wistfully. Buffy looked up at Will, a soft expression threading through features.

Willow realized the double edge to her words, a remorseful expression quickly befalling her face. Before she could backtrack, Buffy smiled at her, tenderly, as the emotion in her voice subdued the playful nature, “Have a messed up nail, that’s what. We couldn’t have that now, could we? No way.”

This brought out a laugh from Willow, which made Buffy laugh and once again, they were two normal girls who were painting each other’s nails, swooning over boys and indulging in food that would put them in a sleep coma.

Just two girls having a sleepover.

Nothing about being Chosen. Or being The One.

Just regular, normal, girly things.


End file.
